


Pickup Note

by theunicornandtheraven



Series: Jollock - Five Senses [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Multi, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:39:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theunicornandtheraven/pseuds/theunicornandtheraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and Molly soothe John when a neighbor sets off fireworks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pickup Note

Molly worked in Bart’s basement, far away from the busy parts of the hospital upstairs. Some days, hours passed before she heard conversation.

Sherlock had dragged her back to the morgue that night and holed up in the lab. Even with him in the next room, she thought the morgue seemed lonelier at night. She sung to herself to fill the space and silence.

She sensed someone behind her, watching her. Her heart beat faster. Fear ran a cold finger down her back. She turned.

It was Sherlock.

“How long have you been there?” she said, a little wide-eyed and pale.

“Not long. The case closed a few minutes ago. Lestrade could have solved it himself.”

She studied his face, unsure if he was smirking at Lestrade or her singing. Or it just could have been something his face did. She came to no conclusion.

He didn’t mention it again until Guy Fawkes Day. A neighbor set off fireworks. At the sound of each one, John flinched. He passed the night pacing the flat, checking over his shoulder, and tapping his fingers.

Sherlock lay on the sofa, fingers steepled, staring up at the ceiling. “I can’t think with you jumping out of your skin every few seconds.”

Molly slammed her book shut and frowned at Sherlock. “They sound like gunshots,” she said.

“I’m fine. Really,” John said.

“You’re not,” Sherlock and Molly said at the same time.

Sherlock sighed, rolled off the couch, and fetched his violin. “Both of you, come here,” he said, rosining the bow. Molly and John joined him on the couch.

He began to play, improvising something soothing. Molly felt some of John’s tension dissipate as he leaned into her. The music shifted into something recognizable, the song he’d heard Molly sing in the morgue. He skipped back to the beginning at the start of the first verse and stared at her. 

“I thought you were going to sing, he said.

“I am?” she said. Her voice went a bit squeaky.

“Yes. I heard you the other day, you sounded lovely. I’ve already played this part, so do hurry up.”

She sang with the violin, cheeks red, unable to meet their eyes. When the duet ended, John looked at both of them with unchecked adoration. Sherlock put down the bow and curled around John’s side. The fireworks had stopped without them noticing.

They slept peacefully that night.


End file.
